The Secrets of Lake Road - Karen Katchur Page 0,65

reason was much, much worse.

“Where are you?” Kyle asked on Patricia’s first day there, hours before she had taken Sara to the beach, to the lake, hours before Sara had gone missing. Patricia had been unpacking the groceries in the Sparrow when the cabin’s old rotary phone rang.

“You leave me this number, but don’t tell me where you’re going. What am I supposed to think?” he said.

“You’re supposed to think I left you.” She had planned the trip to the lake months ago, packing small items at a time, things they would need there but not at home: extra towels, old linens, books, and art supplies. Nothing Kyle would miss.

“Did you call a lawyer?” There was a hint of panic in his voice.

“No,” she said, her own voice cool and even.

“Good,” he said. “Good. We can handle it ourselves. There’s no need to get a third party involved. I know all those bloodsucking lawyers anyway.”

You know them because you’re one of them, she thought but didn’t say.

He continued without pause. “They will try to drag this out and squeeze all the money they can out of us. They’ll bleed us dry, I tell you.”

“Of course.” He didn’t care she left him. No, this phone call was about making sure one of his colleagues didn’t get a dime of his money. If it wasn’t so pitiful, she might’ve laughed.

“Okay, then we’re in agreement? No lawyers?” He was in a rush. He must’ve had another call coming in or a meeting or a rendezvous.

“I guess.” She didn’t care one way or the other. For her it was never about the money. “Would you like to talk with your daughter?” Please say yes, please show her you care even if you no longer care for me. It was the only reason she had left him the phone number in the first place.

“I can’t,” he said. “I’m in a hurry.”

“It will only take a second. She misses you.”

“I have to go. No lawyers, Patricia. Do you hear me? I mean it.” He hung up.

Sara trotted into the kitchen. “Was that Daddy?”

“Yes,” she said, and kissed the top of Sara’s head. “He wanted me to tell you how much he misses you and how sorry he is he couldn’t talk to you. And”—she touched the tip of Sara’s nose with her finger—“he wants you to have a whole lot of fun while you’re here. Do you think you can do that?”

“Yes,” Sara said. “Did you tell him I miss him, too?”

Patricia nodded and watched her daughter skip back into the family room. She could’ve forgiven Kyle for the affair. Maybe. Eventually. But she could never forgive him for being a lousy father.

It was hard to believe that had been five days ago, five days that her daughter was missing. She had thought by returning to the lake, the one place from her childhood she had loved, she could escape her troubles back home—six hours west across the state of Pennsylvania in a small rural town where the gossip about her marriage, her once private life, was sure to have spread. She had thought by returning to the lake, she could finally be happy.

* * *

Patricia was sitting on the hood of a car with her feet propped on the front bumper in the parking lot outside of the Pavilion. She couldn’t say whose car it was or what the make or model could be, but whoever owned it had parked it lakefront, close to the water’s edge. It was where she had to be. And what difference did it make whose car it was anyway? What could they do to her that hadn’t already been done?

Stars filled the night sky, the threat of another storm having evaporated hours ago. Music poured from the Pavilion’s jukebox, glasses clinked, people talked and laughed. The lake spread out before her like an endless, bottomless, black pit.

She pulled Sara’s cloth doll from the pocket of her jeans and hugged it close to her chest. Sara had slept with the doll, Dolly, since she was born. It was old and torn, and some of the stuffing had fallen out, but it was well loved. She could smell her daughter on the cotton fabric, the way she smelled from sleep, a mixture of sweetness and innocence.

Men’s voices echoed across the lake and drew her attention. She gazed at the lone watercraft and what she believed was a fisherman. She dried her wet eyes with the doll the way Sara used to